Even if With a gloom on the face
For the lost days you keep searching,
And a hundred and eight beads,
Putting them into a string,
Even for long days you keep muttering
In grief only your tear will spring.
The time that's once gone
Does never return
No matter how much your heart you burn.
Like a dying flower with its fading petals
To thrive, takes support from the sepals
Decaying on the tree, for an hour or two,
And hangs on only to make its journey through,
So in the world does man abide
Consoling from a tiring glimmer
That Lord of Hope does provide
To him, the Purposeless Wanderer,
As his heart grows heavy and heavier.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That Lord of Hope does provide To him, the Purposeless Wanderer, As his heart grows heavy and heavier. your poem spreads the sense of hope in seeming hopelessness. tony
thanks for kind appreciation.